I Hit the Back of the Tower Master’s Head - Chapter 6

Episode 6

The next morning, Ruth’s face looked way softer than yesterday. Like a cat whose fur finally stopped bristling. He quietly took the soup Lily served and sat down at the table without complaint. I slid my notebook toward him.

[Don’t you want to eat meat?]

“Meat? You have meat here?”

He looked so shocked, like, meat? In this tiny countryside place? I pouted a little.

[Of course! There’s an old hunter who catches a wild boar every month and shares it around.]

“…So, you’ve got some now too?”

I glanced at Lily. She’s the one who keeps track of our pantry. She tilted her head, calculating in her own way, then perked her ears.

〈We’ve still got a lot of dried stuff.〉

[See? Dried meat left. We could throw it in soup, or maybe make a meat pie?]

Ruth looked from the potato soup to the bread, then to Lily. Lily stomped her foot.

〈What, you don’t want it?〉

Even without words, her attitude screamed eat it or else. So Ruth just behaved and kept eating.

‘Lily, can you make a meat pie for lunch?’

She nodded.

〈But we’re low on tomatoes, so buy some.〉

Of course she had to add that little demand. Should’ve bought them yesterday… but well, yesterday I had to rush back when Ruth’s wound split open.

[If I get tomatoes, Lily’ll make a meat pie for lunch.]

“I can go get them.”

[Nope. You stay put. We agreed you won’t risk tearing your wound again.]

Ruth stared at the notebook, then nodded. He was eating better today, so I cut my bread in half and pushed it to him. Lily instantly snatched it back and replaced it with a fresh piece—like some food-guardian ghost. Ruth smiled faintly, accepted her bread, and dunked it into his soup.

On my way back with tomatoes, I spotted Annie struggling with two baskets.

When she got to my door, she turned her head and noticed me.

“Hey, Lunar.”

I waved back, opened the gate, dropped off the groceries, and took the basket she held out.

“Mushrooms. That should cover the doll, right?”

The basket was heavy. She must’ve wandered all day foraging. Annie looked dead-tired, like she’d crash into bed the second she got home. She fidgeted, then asked carefully:

“So… when should I come pick it up?”

Like she didn’t want to seem pushy. I thought for a second, then wrote:

[Two days should be enough. I’ll bring it to your house myself, so no need to come.]

“Really? Thanks, Lunar.”

[Hold on, I’ll get Nyangnyang for you.]

I told Pinocchio to stash the groceries, then scooped up Nyangnyang the cat from his sunspot and handed her over. Annie rubbed her face against the cat, who responded by paw-pushing her nose.

“I’ll see you, Lunar!”

I waved her off and closed the door. That’s when Ruth cautiously stepped out of Mother’s old room.

[You tired?]

“No… just thought I heard someone.”

[You didn’t see anyone when you went for a walk yesterday?]

“No, nobody.”

〈He jumped at every little noise. Total scaredy-cat.〉

Pinocchio snickered. I flicked his hand.

‘Don’t talk like that. Even if he can’t hear you.’

He rubbed his hand dramatically like it hurt.

Meanwhile, Lily was already sorting through the groceries.

‘We just need a meat pie, not a feast.’

〈I was gonna make juice too! What, you don’t want juice now?〉

‘Sorry, sorry.’

While Lily cooked lunch, I pulled out a dark brown cloth. I had two days, but the sooner I finished Annie’s doll, the better. I sketched with chalk, cut the fabric, and threaded a needle.

This one should be bigger—small fish are too bony and not worth much. A big doll to catch big fish. And it has to fly. Definitely wings.

I thought back to when I made Lulu—poured all my magic into the wings.

I started channeling energy into the cloth, puffing it up. Sewed it tight, stuffed it with magic like cotton, watched it ripple under my hands.

By the time I had two wings ready, Lily called for lunch. A whole plate of cookies sat untouched beside me. Guess I’d been too focused.

The kitchen smelled amazing. Ruth must’ve smelled it too, because he shuffled out, smiling sheepishly when we locked eyes. Lily set down a massive meat pie while Pinocchio, wearing gloves, crushed apples into juice.

Ruth sat down, eyes wide as he watched apples turn to liquid. Lily cut the pie into eight neat slices.

〈If you can’t finish, it goes into soup tonight.〉

Cough! I almost choked laughing.

“You okay?”

Ruth had his cheeks stuffed with pie already. I nodded.

[Does it taste good?]

“It’s really good.”

I slid my slice to him.

[Eat up. I’ll stock more meat next time.]

“…Thanks.”

He pushed his apple juice to me. Lily immediately scolded Pinocchio for not making enough juice for me first. Ruth just chuckled faintly at their antics.

I stayed up all night working. By dawn, the eagle doll was finished. It wasn’t exactly majestic—more cute than fierce—but it would do. I floated it into the air. It flapped its wings… kind of like a pigeon.

It looked like an eagle, sure—white head, brown body, yellow beak—but the way it flew? Definitely pigeon vibes.

Lily yelled from the kitchen:

〈Breakfast! Don’t let it get cold! You skipped dinner already!〉

I stumbled to the table, half-asleep.

“Stay awake.”

Ruth shook my shoulder. I slapped my own cheeks a few times to focus.

“Did someone pressure you? Why push yourself like that?”

Lily set down tomato soup and scrambled eggs. I stirred the soup, then scribbled:

[I just got carried away while making it.]

“…Don’t overdo it.”

He hesitated, then fell quiet and ate. I nodded faintly and sipped hot soup, burning my tongue. Lily asked,

〈So, it’s done?〉

‘Yeah. All finished.’

After breakfast, Lily skipped after me, demanding to see. Lulu and Pinocchio peeked around too. Even Ruth asked, hesitant:

“Can I take a look?”

I waved him over. Lily poked the eagle doll’s wings until it slapped her with one. Pinocchio fetched some stones, which I shaped into claws—not too sharp, so Annie wouldn’t get hurt. The doll proudly puffed its chest.

But the way it flapped still screamed pigeon.

“Not satisfied?” Ruth asked. The doll gave me the saddest look, like how dare you not love me?

[It flies like a pigeon.]

“…Pigeon?”

Ruth muttered the word again. The doll looked between us, horrified. I avoided its gaze. It covered its face with its wings dramatically, like it was sobbing.

“Can’t you adjust the wings?”

[The wings are fine. It’s just… the flight pattern.]

“Strange…” Ruth frowned, but I scooped the doll up.

“Not fixing it?”

I shook my head. Functionally, it was fine. Time to deliver it. The doll sulked in my arms, muttering,

〈…Pigeon? Did she really call me a pigeon?〉

At Annie’s house, her mom Karen opened the door, worry etched on her face.

“Oh, Lunar. What’s the matter?”

“Mom! He’s here with the doll!” Annie popped out from behind her.

I handed over the eagle doll and wrote:

[The claws are stone. If it scratches, it’ll hurt—so be careful.]

“Thanks!”

Annie immediately floated it. The eagle flapped proudly.

“My, Lunar,” Karen gasped. “Your magic is always incredible. Even your mother’s dolls weren’t this amazing.”

“Will it catch fish now?” Annie asked.

[Try it out. If it doesn’t work, I’ll fix it.]

“Everything you make works. It’ll be fine.”

I asked about her dad. Karen sighed.

“He’s taking his medicine. Getting better slowly. But they say if we want faster results, we should hire a healer from the capital.”

Healers charged insane prices. I frowned.

[He’ll recover. Just make sure he moves around a little once he’s up.]

Karen nodded weakly. Annie, meanwhile, squinted at the doll.

“It kinda looks like… something.”

[It’s an eagle doll.] I quickly wrote.

“I’ve never seen an eagle. Honestly… looks more like a sparrow? No, wait…”

Karen tilted her head. “A pigeon?”

The doll immediately flapped angrily. Karen raised her hands in apology. Annie tilted her head too.

“Well… as long as it fishes okay. But yeah, it really does look like a pigeon.”

WHAM! The doll body-checked her in protest.

“Ugh!” Annie yelped.

I waved goodbye quickly and bolted before things got worse.

Back home, still catching my breath, Ruth asked:

“Maybe it looks like a pigeon because it’s too chubby? You stuffed it with a lot of cotton.”

[Too late now.]

Ruth fell silent. I watched Lulu clean up my messy workroom and thought, Next time, I’ll use less stuffing.